


Invisible

by JoyKatieWrites



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: An old story, Assault, Eating Disorder, Friendship, Swanqueen friendship, T/W, Taking control, Violence, Written in 2012, but I was new to writing, relationship undetermined, when i wrote it, which I hate, written in first person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyKatieWrites/pseuds/JoyKatieWrites
Summary: Emma is invisible, and that is just the way she likes it. That is until one perfect stranger begins to take an interest. / AU /  [T/W for assault, violence and eating disorders] [I don't own anything].
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills & Emma Swan
Kudos: 3





	Invisible

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a story I started writing in 2012. I wrote the whole thing in an hour and then never posted it. When I posted this on ffn (in 2017) I was just getting into writing for OUAT and I figured that I could turn it into an actual fic. I hate writing in first person. I guess it was just how I started when I was 16. T/W for violence, assault and eating disorders. Rated for themes and language.  
> I figured I’d start posting my other works from ffn over to AO3, to see if any of them are worth continuing. Let me know if you think I should.

_It was silent. I hated the silence. I craved noise, music, anything but silence. The walk from school was a long one and I always had my music. I always had my headphones, something to just keep the silence away. Of course today would be the day they choose to break. The day my dad's car broke down and he couldn't pick me up. The day I had to walk the five miles home, from hell._

_I'd been walking almost an hour and by my estimate had another half hour to walk. I stopped and grabbed my bottle of water, leaning against the wall for a little break. I saw them turn a corner and start walking towards me. They still hadn't noticed me and so I pressed myself against the wall as much as I could, hoping to hide myself from their view._

_But it was too late. They'd seen me. I quickly shoved my bottle into my bag and tried to run for it, but I didn't get very far when I felt a cold, clammy hand grab at my arm._

" _Stop right there bitch."_

_I stopped trying to run. I knew they'd always be able to catch me; they were members of the track team after all. I turned to face the ringleader as the others caught up. I braced myself as the first hit landed on my chest. I took it. I couldn't outrun them. I couldn't fight them off. What else could I do?_

_I had been off in my own little world until I felt one of them lift my skirt up, trying to grope me. I lifted my knee to try and kick them but the short, chubby one grabbed it and pushed me to the floor. I felt sick. I physically felt like retching. I closed my eyes, shutting them out, making them disappear from view. I searched in my mind for something good, something I could block them out with._

_I took that song and played it over and over again in my head, drowning out their voices at the sound of my favourite song._

_I can't see them._

_I can't hear them._

_I don't feel them._

I woke with a start, gasping, sweat dripping down my forehead. It had been two weeks since it happened and I hadn't slept a full night since then. Nightmares plagued me whenever I closed my eyes. I had no appetite. Music even lost its appeal. Apart from school, I'd been holed up in my room for two weeks; not wanting to leave, to risk having to talk. I only left to shower, and when I couldn’t put off eating any longer. My parents thought I always ate big lunches with my friends, and so bought my excuses for the small portions at dinner. The food I just pushed around my plate until they left, and then fed it to the dog, or the garbage disposal.

I sighed and switched on the lamp, looking at the clock. It read 1:53am. I was never going to get back to sleep now. Instead, I thought I might as well take a shower. My parents were still asleep when I got up and checked and so I could have some privacy and some peace.

The bathroom had a full length mirror in which I had been avoiding for a while. I didn't want to see the disgust with myself so clearly tattooed on my face. I quickly stripped and changed the water temperature until it was scorching. Two weeks and I still couldn't get the feeling of grime from under my skin.

This time though, before I could stop it, I was drawn to the mirror. I had to see what it was about me that made me such a target. The girl looking back at me didn't look like me. She was pale, had dark circles under her eyes, her hair hung down her shoulders limp and lifeless. Exactly like I felt. I looked over my nude form and frowned. There were still bruises, hand shaped, around my thighs and calves. They had faded to a yellowish hue but the shape was still definite. I shuddered, remembering the pain. It was always there now, no matter how much I tried to forget it.

Another look.

I realised what was wrong with me. I was curvy, what my mother had called a 'late bloomer' when I was sixteen, I had suddenly developed breasts and hips. I understood. I dressed too provocatively. Acted inappropriately. It was all my own fault what they had done to me.

I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat and stepped into the shower. I grabbed the scentless soap and lathered it all over my body. I couldn't smell nice, it was wrong, but I had to be clean. I had to get rid of the feeling of their hands on me.

After the shower, I sat in my room, staring at the logarithms work I just couldn't get my head around. Eventually I gave up. I was exhausted but I couldn't sleep. I needed answers.

I quickly got settled back in bed, hoping it would make my body want to fall asleep. I surfed the internet for a while but my stomach didn't stop rumbling. Too soon, the all too familiar pain got too much and I shut the internet down. I had been eating nothing, and had drunk nothing but water since then. I had no appetite. My body was hungry, the pains made me forget. I welcomed it. I took a long drink of water; drifting off as the water tricked my body into thinking it was being fed.

But I couldn't sleep. Lack of food, bad dreams and lack of sleep were beginning to take its toll on my body. I knew what stress could do to you if you let it. My mother had been stressed last year, after suffering a miscarriage and then losing her job as a elementary school teacher. She had stopped eating, lost a lot of weight. She had been in control of herself though, and she fought through it and got better.

She and my dad had attended counselling to help with their grief and were doing better than ever and she found a new job in a special needs school where she was thriving. She was happy with the weight she had lost, not so happy about losing all her curves.

Wait. That's it. I have to lose weight and I'll lose all my curves. The boys will have no reason to come after me.

I was too awake to sleep now. I grabbed my laptop and opened a fresh word document. I was going to record everything I ate, cut out everything I don't need. Take control of my diet, take control of my body.

I researched what foods had low calories, planned simple, easy, fat free meals. I was taking a catering course as extra credits for school and therefore I could use that excuse for my sudden interest in cooking. I could use that time to control my portion sizes, calorie intake and fat content. I was going to beat this.

I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, happier than I had been in two weeks.


End file.
